


His Queen

by Nosferathi



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, kind of an AU, where Wilson becomes ruler of the Constant alongside Maxwell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24563950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nosferathi/pseuds/Nosferathi
Summary: Ruling the Constant can become boring when you're used to spend your days working and tinkering. Wilson tends to vent to Maxwell when he's frustrated.
Relationships: Maxwell/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 60





	His Queen

Another day started in the Constant.

The sun rising was usually a moment most survivors waited for; but not Wilson. Not anymore. Sitting on his personal throne, the scientist yawned and slouched slightly, trying to find a position he could call comfortable enough. Tiredness couldn’t get to him anymore, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t exhausted. Bored. Moody, even, as he tightened his grip on the chair’s arms. It reciprocated, the shadows gnawing at his wrists. “Cut it out”, he mumbled, and They snickered in the darkness.

“Is something wrong, Higgsbury?”, a voice raised behind him. Wilson didn’t feel like twisting his neck to try and get a view of his visitor. It wasn’t like he didn’t know who it was anyways. The faint smell of cigar rose in the air, and the scientist decided he didn’t like it. He tried to slide a bit more in his seat, but it kept him from moving further down. “Now come on, fix that posture.”

A clawed hand grabbed his shoulder, pulling him up. He only grunted, raising his gaze to meet the magician’s. He suddenly felt angry at him instead of Them. “What do you want, Maxwell? Are your puppets not interesting enough for you to stop pestering me?”

For a while, the cycle of things here in the Constant was more or less simple; someone had to stay on the throne, torturing the poor souls who stayed on the lower levels of the board, until someone else replaced them. But it seemed like They grew tired of it; some of the survivors stopped bothering and instead built a better camp, with gardens and defenses. It wasn’t fun to see them act as a little colony, helping each other and living more than surviving. So the next time someone walked up to the throne, They kept the last ruler too. 

Wilson was supposed to replace Maxwell. Not keep him company in the darkness.

“I can’t bear being here anymore! I don’t know how you do it. Of all of us, you’ve been here the longest, even after we started switching once in a while. I thought coming here and throwing you outside would give me a longer break of seeing your face. Look at us now, stuck in this stupid place.”

Maxwell raised a hand to is chest, feigning being hurt. “Dear, Wilson, you don’t need to unleash all this hatred towards me! I personally thought the role of queen suited you well.”

The scientist choked on nothing, and They laughed again in the darkness, giving him some freedom to see where it would go. He got up from his seat, tilting his head up to stare at the other. “Queen? What a wretched title coming from you.” His expression turned into a snarl when the magician grinned, visibly happy with the reaction he got from the smaller man. “I’d prefer being a fool rather than being a queen at the side of a king like you.”

Maxwell was still grinning, now looking down at his cigar, letting the ashes disappear into the nothingness. “I’m afraid the fool’s role has already been claimed by the mime, doll. Plus, I wouldn’t want anyone else at my side.” A flick of the hand and invisible tendrils pulled Wilson against him, the tall man wasting no time to press a kiss on his lips.

The scientist stiffened, growled, then eventually gave up. Maxwell damn knew he couldn’t resist him. His hands buried into the other man’s hair, and Wilson shivered when he heard him purr. Breaking the kiss, he frowned, cheeks burning red. “Why the sour expression, love?” asked the king, and the other looked away. “It’s always entertaining to pull your leg, but I do prefer when you enjoy my company.” he added, and Wilson finally looked up again.

“They fill my head with ugly thoughts, that’s all. If I don’t want to be too harsh on the survivors, I end up hurting you. Everyday is worse, I want do do something to occupy my mind; tinker, work on new machines, but we’re so limited ! And anything I’d create here, They’d use it against the others. It’s a nasty circle.” By the time he was done, his face was buried in the other’s chest, which made it hard for Maxwell to hear the end of his rant. He gently rubbed his back, looking into the emptiness in front of him. “I know, pal, They try to change us. You’ll get used to it, and I’ll always be there to pull you back to me if not.”

The dapper man nuzzled in Wilson’s hair. He had to admit, one thing he liked about him being a shadow was the cleanliness. He tried to ignore Their whispers, the lack of drama visibly frustrating Them; it was a small win for the two rulers. Sitting on Wilson’s chair, pulling him on his lap, Maxwell let out a sigh, knowing he’d have to go to his own throne eventually. For the moment however, he wanted to enjoy this small moment of peace. The survivors deserved it too, for their morning would be mostly uneventful.

**Author's Note:**

> Quick note, I've only started writing recently (after an abyssal hiatus) - this was just to test the waters with how I write these two~


End file.
